Forbidden Tragedies

Chapter 23

-Lucien-

It took me a while before I could force myself to get up. Enough to where the sun had already set hours ago.

It was that long until the energy in me had recovered enough for me to just envision tearing myself from this bed without getting dizzy or feeling the need to vomit.

Until my muscles would move without aching, and I could breathe normally after just sitting up.

Percentage-wise, I'd say I was around the mid-twenties. Definitely not great, but I've been through worse.

I never put what Cylas put me through in my journals, knowing that Erik reads them, and I just generally don't like to think about it. I just jot it down as a particularly bad day and move on with it.

I shifted my legs off of the side of the bed, giving myself a short countdown before forcing myself to stand on them

Mentally, I could feel that I was still tender, like that hollow void in my instincts hadn't yet fully recovered.

Either it'd take a few more days to do that, or I'd need something specific to trigger their focus and likewise force them back into working condition.

My sadness was more from just general self-loathing. A type that wasn't strong enough to enlighten my instincts.

My anger at the situation too wasn't strong enough to accomplish much.

I set a hand on the wall before taking my slow steps just in case.

The coito club would work. I knew it would. It always worked in heightening my instincts just enough to bring peace.

But I was barely moving, starving since I haven't eaten since yesterday, and doubted I had the energy to even get down to my ride before what was left in me depleted

A defeated groan rose from my throat, deciding that first and foremost, my goal should be just to get cleaned up. Clean up the spots in this room that I'd gotten blood on as well.

I pulled open the curtain to open my bed up to the rest of the room with my free hand, squinting at the new light that someone had forgotten to turn off.

Speak of the devil, the click of my door unlocking and me drawing in a sigh for mental preparation and general devastation towards the brutal interruption of my peaceful plans.

She walked in completely casually and shut the door, momentarily giving me that same look of shock she gave last night when she finally noticed me standing there.

She made the room reak of uncertainty and fear this morning, causing my headache to skyrocket.

Yet now, just as I've witnessed more than a few times before, she managed to shift that into a false sense of confidence and annoyed disgust.

Squaring her shoulders, lifting her chin, and meeting my gaze head-on. Unmoving as if she had a point to prove.

I wondered if that'd be any different had she known how she behaved in front of me that night she was drunk. That her mask completely crumbled.

I matched her look ten-fold, though mine wasn't in any way faked.

Her timing was away somehow cruel. She just happened to appear or be there at the worst possible times. It's almost like she was doing it on purpose though I knew there was no way that was the case.

I was still somewhat pissed just because she let my sister in this morning, and because out of the entire floor and her own damn room, she always ends up in mine whenever it's the last place I want her to be.